Drifting part III: The wind does howl
by SUITOFSKIN
Summary: Stan is in the middle of no where laying low from a crime when Rick shows up bringing trouble in his wake as always.
1. Chapter 1

Stan didn't care what state he was in, all he knew was the part he was in was wooded and rural. The last crime had blown up in his face, literally, Stan was still lucky to have a face. There was a warrant out for him or rather for Hal Forester. When it went south and the heat was on, Margot had come through for him, rather then turning him over to the police. Maybe, considering how deep they both were with this, she had no other option. Anyhow, her hick cousins had lots of land out here on the edge of a town called Lake Harbor which was as far north as you could get here. Her cousins, Norbert and Throckmorton, lived in the main farm house and let Stan use a guest cabin far away from the main house. This whole setup gave him the heebie-jeebies. Norbert who was slint eyed, balding bespectacled and mustachioed, Throckmorton who was chinless, buck toothed and always wearing a filthy baseball cap, also gave him the jeebies. Neither one talked to him much. The cabin was in the middle of woods. It had two rooms, a main one and a bathroom. It was bare wood, the fixtures of the kitchenette metal or white ceramic. The fridge was from the 50s. There were cabinets with canned goods. There was a single bed with a thin blue ticked mattress, faded sheets and a thin blanket. There a was table and chairs, ancient and battered. There was also a radio that barely got the local station and of course a generator to keep the whole shebang running. A single bulb high in the ceiling illuminated the whole place. At night it got very quiet and very dark. It was summer going into fall, he shivered under the thin blanket.

Stan kept having dreams of a little girl, in a ragged stained dress, with black hair and eyes of pure black. She'd open her mouth and silently black liquid would bubble up from her throat. He'd try to move, to run but in his dream he was rooted to the spot. She'd just gurgle and slowly, slowly raise her right arm and point at him accusingly. He'd wake up with his heart in his throat. Sometimes though, he wasn't entirely sure he was asleep but ya know he must have been cuz he'd find himself in bed. The wind would howl through the trees, and it would sound like someone screaming. One day when Norbert came to drop off supplies,

Stan asked, "Hey you ever hear weird things at night?"

Norbert stopped and looked at him with those slint eyes of his, the light gleaming off his spectacles. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, well ya know, maybe wolves or something, only it sounds a lot like screaming." Stan said. "it's creepy."

"That," Norbert said firmly. "Is just the wind blowing through the woods at night. It can sound, quite bad. But don't worry, it's nothing."

"Huh." Stan said. "Alright."

That night he heard it, he went outside but there was no wind. The static-y radio did report however that a local girl, 8, Blythe Mackenzie had disappeared walking home from school two towns over. She had red hair and was last seen wearing blue overalls and a green shirt. That night he dreamt of the black eye, black haired girl, not looking at him but at a newcomer, another little girl with red pigtails and blue overalls. The black eyed, black haired girl held out her hand and the new girl took it. As she did the color faded from her face, her eyes turned pure black. Both turned and stared at Stan. He woke up. He didn't sleep for the next three days. Sometime in the morning before the sun rose, he heard a noise like a car backfiring combined with a whooshing sound. There was flash of light outside the cabin. Then the sound of someone banging on the door. Stan found the rifle under his bed, he gripped it tightly. The banging continued. Now there was yelling.

'HEY STAN OPEN UP THIS IS RICK! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR STANLEY!"

Rick, how did he find him? How did he know this was actually Rick?

"HOW DO I KNOW IT'S YOU!? TELL ME SOMETHING ONLY YOU AND ME KNOW!" Stan said aiming at the door.

There was sighing, "Doug Blevins made re-animated corpses to fuck." the voice said.

Stan put the gun down and went to the door and opened it. Rick was standing there, he was wearing tight black pants and a blue wife beater that shimmered in a weird way. Also had a spiked dog collar on his neck. He also looked exhausted, deep down soul tired.

"Come in, how the fuck did you find me? Where the hell were you?" Stan asked.

"I put a tracking device in you, remember, Stan?" Rick sighed, "And like Gloria Gaynor sang I'm back from outer space."

Rick slouched into the cabin and sat in the chair. Stanm closed the door and sat on the bed.

"Outer space, really?" Stan asked.

Rick took a cigarette from his pants pocket and held it out. Stan took it, Rick took out another one. Stan lit them with his trusty zippo and they smoked in silence.

Rick shook his head and sighed again. "Yeah, really. I've been out there Stan. Do you remember what happened in Milworth?"

Stan tried to concentrate, that name was a place, a town, something he wasn't sure had happened, maybe it was a dream. It was foggy but stuff kept breaking through. He remembered the town and some fragments of that summer but not the whole thing, that name Milworth… Milworth…. yes, the sensation was getting stronger internal fog was clearing. "Yeah kinda, you got busted for drugs and I dunno, I tried to go back, there were road signs but no one had heard of it. I wasn't even sure it was, ya know, real."

"Oh it was real alright," Rick said.

Stan took another drag on his cigarette, other things began to come back …were they on a spaceship….in outer space, he took another drag, the nicotine was helping. "So what happened after you got sent to space prison?"

"Who says I ended up in prison?" Rick said. "Lots of shit happened. Right now, I'm laying low cuz a group of megalomaniac bugs called the Gromflomites decided to take over the universe….they haven't gotten near earth yet."

"The who?"

"A bunch of cunts, Stan," Rick said.

"Look, you can stay here for now, but I gotta warn you, there is a warrant out for my arrest and I don't need too much trouble," Stan said.

Rick rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna get you arrested, but there is only so long you can stay here, ya know."

"Yeah," Stan sighed.

They drank, later Stan cooked up a mess of beans and bacon which they ate in blue enamelware bowls with stale bread that Stan had to shave the green bits off of. They ate in silence, when Stan poured out a round of cheap whiskey into a tin mug Rick said nothing but drank it with him nonetheless.

"Fuck," Rick said after his first belt. "I missed that. Alien h-h-hooch, it doesn't taste the same."

Stan took a sip from his cup. "How does this keep happening?"

"What?" Rick drank more.

"You, me, how do we keep running into each other." Stan said and drank more, feeling the warmth inside him spreading and loosening his tongue.

"Look, I tracked you down this time, it's my f-f-fucking fault." Rick said and took another swig.

"I know, I know, I just ….Oy you are the last person I need here right now."

Rick scowled. "Look, do you think I wanna be here, Pines? My aunt and her lover didn't want me. Aunt Martha blames me that the s-s-shitty town she grew up in vanished off the m-m-map."

Stan gave Rick a look. "Oy."

"Yeah, look, so Milworth was shitty. And yes they remember cuz they were outside the radius of the amnesia ray…." Rick sighed, he met Stan's look with a nervous fidget. "There was n-n-n-nothing I could do! It was fucked… Está jodido! Stop fucking giving me that look, Pines!"

Rick turned away.

"If you wanna leave—"

"Ohh trust me Pines I'll leave, I'll leave right fuckin' now—"

"—Whoa, calm down… you can stay here, if you want. Just try and keep low."

"…You want me here?"

Stan said nothing, sighing he pulled out the bottle of whiskey and poured both of them another round. Rick smiled slowly.

"It gets lonely out here… you're better than the damned static on the radio."

"You fuckin' softy."


	2. Chapter 2

They didn't talk in the coils and waves of time. As the day passed Rick ended up on the narrow bed next to Stan. His body was as bony and angular as Stan recalled, but the feeling of it leaning against him and Rick's steady breathing were oddly comforting. They were half drunk and half tired as the day drew on. Getting drunker as the day wore on. They kissed sloppily, wet tongues, chapped lips and rough unshaven chins. They held each other and kissed, aroused but too tired to actually have sex, just content to be near and feel the other. Rick was soon asleep and Stan was very nearly on the edge of it. He closed his eyes and he wasn't sure if he was asleep. That girl was back, her eyes hollow and black, her ragged blood-stained dress, the mouth that gaped as centipedes scuttled out. She was hovering a foot above the floor pointing right at him. Next to him, he heard Rick draw his breath and softly swear.

"Wait, you can see her too?" Stan whispered.

"Yes," Rick mumbled. "Oh fuck, this place is haunted."

"I'm not dreaming?" Stan asked.

"Not unless I'm dreaming too." Rick said.

The ghost girl loomed closer and they both screamed, she evaporated just like mist. Stan clung to Rick, he could hear the other man's heart beating in his chest, like a frantic bird beating its wings against a cage. Rick's boney arms were wrapped around him tight. Adrenaline was zinging through their veins. Stan was gulping down air, he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Rick began to cackle with nervous laughter and Stan joined in. They laughed so much Stan thought he'd bust a gut. But the adrenaline was still making his heart beating like a speed freaks'. That's when Rick kissed him full and sloppily on the lips. Stan returned the kiss with equal fervor. . They quickly shucked their clothes, flinging them all over the cabin. Sucking and stroking away. It felt electric, it felt amazing, he hadn't had a blow job in a year and this was much better than the last time. They had sex.

He lay down and Rick curled around him. They finally slept, heavily, like the dead.

In the morning Stan woke up alone and cold. He blearily looked around, the door was open. So Rick had left him, well that wasn't unexpected. At least he could have closed the door. Stan groaned got out of bed went to close the door.

"HEY STAN COME OUT HERE, I F-F-FOUND SOMETHING, IT'S REAL….. FUCKIN' BAD."

Stan shrugged, and walked out the door, what had Rick found?

"RICK WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Behind the cabin, in the woods."

Stan followed Rick's voice. A few meters from the cabin in a small wooded grove he found Rick standing by a pile of leaves and boards staring into something on the ground, his unibrow furrowed. Stan trundled up to him, and saw the thing Rick was staring into was a large dark pit in the ground.

"What did you find?"

"What you think, Pines? Look."

Stan stared into the pit and saw, oh fuck, he saw…. laying in the pit where the partially mummified corpses of four children and two women. They were all covered by a white salty looking substance… hollow eyes sockets stared up blankly, their mouths oozed black, and one of the corpses had red hair and was wearing a stained, torn green shirt, Blythe Mackenzie. How had he not heard? But he had heard the screams in the night. He just did nothing.

"Fuck, this is fucked up Rick."

"Yeah, we found some serial killer's dump site, looks like. The moron thought quick-lime would dissolve the bodies…. moron."

"This is why we've been haunted, right?"

"Yeah."

"This isn't right, we have to do something," Stan growled.

"What?" Rick snorted. "You're not going to the police, I know you."

"Fuck no. We gotta do this ourselves." Stan mumbled.

"T-That's just what I was thinking." Rick said grinning. "We're gonna fuck up the sick freak who did this."

"Yeah," Stan felt the warmth of anger burning inside and it felt good.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick put the boards and leaves over the bodies again. They walked back to cabin

"So who do you think did this?" Rick asked

"Well, the other two guys Norbert and Throckmorton Aldridge, who live in the farm house on the property, are the creepiest fuckers I've ever met,."

"But creepy doesn't mean they killed anyone." Rick pointed out.

Stan sighed: "Yeah, but these dudes are up to something weird."

"Who put you up in this place any how?"

"Margot Aldridge, they are cousins, all of them."

"The Aldridge family? I heard of them, they are dangerous, what were you doing mixed up with them?"

"I did a job for them, and it didn't go well, so they are letting me stay here till the heat is off."

"But the fucking Aldridge family?"

"Yeah, I know the mob, but the money was so good—"

"Look, they're your normal crime family, then there are these fuckers…. I've heard stuff Pines, they are in deep with some truly evil stuff."

"Fine, I'm a dummy, tell me something I don't know," Stan grumbled.

"Look I get it the money was good, and it beats sucking cock." Rick said.

Stan sighed: "Yeah."

"So these dudes are creepy but you can't tell if it's harmless creepy like they have a still or ….if they killed those people." Rick said.

"Yep, so what do you think?"

"I think we should pay them a visit, friendly one, ask a few questions, see what they do." Rick said.

"Right." Stan smirked and winked.

They took the shotgun, a bat with nails in it, and bunch of nasty shit Rick cobbled together. The house was all white, two stories, small windows and it's roof peaked and gabled, it was plain but neat, there was a barn and equipment shed. The windows by the front porch were covered by heavy curtains.

Stan rang the doorbell and Throckmorton answered, same dirty baseball cap, same slack-jawed expression as always and same stained overalls.

"What ya want Hal?" He said.

Who was Hal? Oh right, he was Hal now.

"Eh, I'm running low on canned beans, can your cousin bring me some?" Stan said.

"Right," Throckmorton began to shut the door.

Stan subtly inserted his foot in the doorway. "Yeah funny weather we've been having. "

"I dunno it seems like normal," Throckmorton said opening the door a bit more.

"Windy as fuck," Stan said. "Can't get much of radio signal."

"I'll ask Norbert, if he has another radio, Hal," Throckmorton said. "But the radio signal is shitty anyhow."

"I did hear a weird thing,local little girl went missing," Said Stan. "know anything?"

Throckmorton's eyes narrowed and darted around before returning to Stans', his body tensed, the corner of his lips twitched then said: "Don't know much about that, Hal."

"Really? Oh well, I was thinking of telling about all that screaming I heard in the woods nearby."

"Uhhhh… I…gotta go … bye!" Throckmorton shouted and tried to slam the burst through, followed by Rick. Throckmorton was down the hallway grabbing a phone and dialing frantically. Rick took the shotgun and with one shot, Throcky was writhing on the floor bleeding, wailing and clutching his left leg.

Stan could hear Norbert's voice faintly through the receiver: "Throcky…? what's going on? what's happening?"

Stan hung up the phone.

Rick was dragging a kicking, squealing and bleeding Throckmorton to a chair, he took out some rope and tied Throckmorton's hands above his head.

"Jeeesum…. this hurts so bad… my leg…. it hurts so so bad…" Throckmorton bawled, face red and torrents of tears streaming down his face.

Stan socked him the face. "Shut up."

Throckmorton shut up, he but his lip, and silently cried, his face red, his old baseball cap askew, Stan felt sorry for him… but then remembered what he and his psycho cousin did to those women and children, and the anger returned and Stan socked him in the gut.

"So Throcky," Rick started. "tell us about the bodies."

Throckmorton managed to smile at Rick. "Them? They was just our prayer and it was damned fun praying'"

Stan was seething with rage. "Fuck you, you animal!"

Throckmorton shook his head. "We ain't alone, Hal, there are things damned powerful things out there and all they want is to watch us hurt. The wheel of pain needs to turn."

Rick glared. "Lemme guess this has to do with whatever fucked up shit you Alridges are mixed up with."

"Yep," Throckmorton said. He looked at his leg. "This sure do bleed a lot and it hurts like fuck."

"Let me, give you something for the pain," Rick said. He raised the shotgun, Stan stepped back, there was an almighty bang and lots of blood. Now there was a huge hole in the middle of Throckmorton's chest and the table had collapsed. That didn't explain why the man was still screaming.

Rick stuck his hand through the bloody, ragged hole, and poked it through, he wiggled his hand and pulled it back looking bemused.

"Holy Moses," Stan exclaimed softly.

"Heh," he sighed. "You can't die can you?"

Throckmorton, tears streaming down his face from the pain, nodded. "Sure…. Fucking …. Bad … Jesus…. It hurts."

"So he can't die but he can feel pain?" Stan asked. "That's beyond fucked up."

"She…. doesn't…. give her gifts all at once….It'll take damned near forever to regrow all you broke…" Throckmorton said.

"Who's She?" Stan asked.

"The unnamed Goddess of the grove, We aren't allowed… to know…her … true name." Throckmorton said.

"Yeeesh, it's one those spooky things again." Stan rolled his eyes.

"Yep," Rick sighed in agreement.

"Can't we just see each other once without all this crap happening?" Stan groaned.

Rick went silent, eyes wide with apprehension. "Norbert's here," Rick said. "Don't turn your head, he's got a gun."

Norbert was talking, "I always knew it would come to this Hal or should I say Stanley Pines, but you brought a friend?"

"Hey! I'm not just a friend, I'm RICK FUCKING SANCHEZ!" Rick said.

There was a pause.

Norbert started cackling and so did Throckmorton for a long time. Then Norbert said wheezing, "Don't know, don't care really. I'm going to chain both of you up, Margot is on her way."

Stan cursed, so much fo laying low.

Norbert, gun trained on them, shackled both Stan and Rick with manacles. He untied Throckmorton and handed him the shotgun. Fuck, if only there was a way to get out of here, get anywhere…. but any risk would end in them dying fast. They were taken to the basement through a door and into…. a cave, dank and dripping. There was a wide hole in the roof of the cave that let the sunlight in, underneath was a bloodstained stone altar. Lit by candles was A crudely carved statue of a creature, the upper half of her body was human, the lower half resembled a praying mantis. She had no face. Rick and Stan were chained to the wall.

Rick hung his head, "Fuck, we're gonna die."

"Hey don't worry we'll get out of this, Sanchez." Stan said.

"No, we are going to die." Rick sighed. "Not fast either, I'm guessing ritual torture and rape before they slit our throats and send us to their 'goddess'."

"Look one of us will figure something out," Stan said, he didn't feel that hopeful but Rick would pull out of this shit mood and maybe…

Stan felt something in his pocket, his lock picking kit! He turned to Rick, about to tell him.

That's when he heard the approaching footsteps. Oh, well better work on this in silence. Throckmorton limped in (so the kneecaps had healed), followed by Norbert, both dressed in cowled red robes. And then there was Margo, Stan had found her a striking woman when he'd worked for her. Hair black as a crow's wing, grey eyes, and full red lips. She wore a red silk dress, low neckline, and thigh high slits on both sides. She smiled at Stan like a tiger.

"I'm not surprised, Stan," She said circling close.

Stan had to stop picking the lock for a moment.

"Heh, I didn't do a good job on that false ID, did I?" Stan said.

"Not really," She mused. "So nice of you to bring us more food for our goddess."

Rick barely looked up and grunted at her.

"Yeah well, he sorta turned up at my cabin." Stan said.

She circled to the altar away from them.

"Mmmmm," She tsked. "You are a bit older, and more male, but the goddess does not refuse any sacrifice that will make the wheel of pain turn."

Stan had his hands free, should he free his feet or Rick's hands.

Stan began to pick the lock on the shackles on his feet. No one was paying them attention, they were standing around facing the altar arms raised chanting. A ripping sound stole Stan's attention, his jaw dropped. Margot's lower half was turning into…. a praying mantis, like the statue. It happened so rapidly Stan couldn't process it. One minute lady, the next mantis. He frantically finished his shackles. Then in the darkness of the cave moved towards Rick.

"I have become her avatar." Margot said.

"What's going on?" Rick sighed.

"I'm freeing you, Sanchez." Stan whispered.

He picked the locks on the locks and Rick was free. They were both free, the Alridge's turned towards them. Oh shit.

"RUN!" Rick shouted.

And they both took off, Stan could hear a commotion behind them, but it didn't matter he was up the basement stairs and down the hall, grabbing Margot's purse on the way out, it was heavy. He could see Norbert, Margot, and Throckmorton in the hall as he thundered out the door behind Rick. It was unnerving to see Margot run in that form… Shit, didn't matter. He got out the door, Rick had hot wired Norbert's old white chevy and was behind the wheel. Stan slid in next to Rick and they gunned it. They didn't stop, driving like mad men until they were three states away. That's when Stan checked the purse, big ass roll of hundreds, a small handgun and some kinda weird cult gold amulet. Rick turned on the radio, Yakkity Sax began to play. Both of them began to laugh and laugh. Rick pulled over cuz they were laughing so hard, then they cried, and cried. Finally, when they caught their breath Stan said,

"I'm NEVER gonna play the hero again."

"Yeah, we gotta keep going we're not safe." Rick said.


End file.
